


Rétroviseur

by Anonymous



Series: Forbidden Kinks [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Humiliation, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Mirror Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 04:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “I love seeing that look in your eyes,” Derek says quietly. Stiles tries to figure out what look he means, but all he can see is his own scrawny reflection. “The anxiety, the fear, the need. You always look so good like this.”





	Rétroviseur

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2018, Day 4  
>  ~~Spanking~~ | **Mirror Sex** | ~~Spit-roasting~~ | ~~Dacryphilia~~

The floor is hard and cold beneath Stiles’ knees, but what can you expect from a change room shower. The only light in the room comes from the high up windows, neither of them willing to risk getting caught by turning on the lights, but it’s more than enough for him to see.

He’s been naked long enough that the chill of the air has set in, and his skin is covered in goose bumps, but he’s been ordered not to move. It takes all his strength to hold back the full body shivers.

They had to drag the mirror out from the main locker area, but it had been surprisingly easy to do so. They’d set it up in the middle of the room, where it was most well lit, and angled it so it didn’t catch so much of the glare from the windows. Once it was in place, Derek had ordered him to strip and he’d done so with haste, and then he had placed both hands on his shoulders and forced him to his knees, arranging him so that he was staring directly into the mirror, unable to avoid his own reflection. 

He knew Derek was standing behind him, could see his reflection in his peripherals, but he knew that wasn’t where he was supposed to be looking.

“I love seeing that look in your eyes,” Derek says quietly. Stiles tries to figure out what look he means, but all he can see is his own scrawny reflection. “The anxiety, the fear, the need. You always look so good like this.”

He wants to drag his eyes away from his own face, wants to look at Derek’s reflection instead, but he knows better. He has a long list of past humiliating and terrible punishments to let him know that disobedience of any kind just isn’t worth it.

There’s movement in the edges of the frame, and a rustling sound coming from behind him as Derek strips his own clothes off. There’s the brushing of skin against skin, and Stiles knows Derek is rubbing his cock slightly, getting warmed up.

The first splash of piss hits Stiles directly on top of his head, and it comes quick and warm enough that he flinches from the change in temperature. Soon his hair is drenched, and he can’t help it, he has to lean forward a bit as it starts running down the back of his head and his face, not wanting it to fall into his eyes. He thinks Derek would forgive him that, at least; the whole point of this thing is that he’s supposed to be watching.

With his eyes, he follows the various rivulets of urine as they flow down his body, dripping onto his shoulders and moving down his arms. It’s not enough to drench him, and in this position most of it is streaming down his back, but just the thought that he’s watching himself be pissed on is enough for the familiar wave of degradation to flow through him. 

Derek had drank enough water for 5 people in the past few hours, so he knows the werewolf is full to bursting, and has plenty left, but it’s not a surprise when Derek stops the flow – they’ll need more for later.

“You try to pretend like you don’t like this, but look, Stiles,” Derek says, louder than before. His eyes automatically return to his own face. There’s a flush running through his cheeks, and his pupils are blown out. It makes him feel filthy, the way he looks so turned on, just from being pissed on. “You would think you were watching a strip tease, you’ve gotten yourself so worked up. You don’t like this, you love it. You deserve it.”

He sees it before he feels it as Derek steps forward over his shoulder, tapping Stiles’ left cheek with the head of his cock. Knowing what he wants, he turns his head just enough to be able to flick his tongue over it, catching the left over drops of piss sticking to it. It’s a salty taste that he knows well, but he still can’t hold back the wrinkle of his nose, or the slight moan he lets out. It takes everything in him not to close his eyes – he doesn’t want to watch himself doing this, wants to leave, wants to smash the mirror into a million pieces. But his face isn’t the only thing reacting to the treatment; his eyes dart down, and he can see his own cock, just as flushed between his thighs, dripping its own steady leak of fluid.

“Hands,” Derek orders quietly, and Stiles hurries to get back out of his head and comply, tilting forward so he’s on all fours. He can’t help a peak to look at Derek’s cock again, watches as the werewolf pumps it a few times, but he’s looking back at himself before he can catch him. 

There’s a bit of red fabric just behind him, and he realizes that whilst he’s being made to kneel on the cold tile, Derek had brought Stiles’ hoodie into the shower and laid it on the floor so that he won’t have to do the same. The thought causes his cock to twitch between his legs, and he realizes Derek is right; he deserves this treatment, and more.

The butt plug he’s had in for hours now is removed without finesse, and he jerks forward as the slight burning ripples through him. There’s still enough lube inside of him that he knows he won’t bleed, but not nearly as much as they normally use. Derek liked the friction, though, and Stiles had figured if they were really going to do this whole scene, they might as well go all out.

He knows he’s clean, but he still feels his stomach twisting as he watches Derek move the plug up towards him. They hadn’t discussed this, hadn’t done it before, but he knows instinctively what the werewolf wants. He wants to protest, wants to draw the line, but he’s so worked up already that his jaw works on autopilot, opening to accept the plug. It’s warm and mostly tastes of the lube, and it’s probably his imagination adding the unfamiliar bitterness to it. Derek rubs his jaw slightly as he pulls back, showing him he’s pleased, and Stiles’ eyes widen as he watches his body react to it, a pleased-looking flush spreading down his neck and over his chest. His lips curve up slightly without instruction, a smile he can’t help, and he nearly chokes as he tries to swallow the gasp he wants to let out.

No wonder Derek had wanted him to see himself like this; his mind always protests these games, but his body doesn’t hold back.

These thoughts overtake his mind, and it’s like he’s on autopilot. Derek fucks into him with no more prep than what they’d done before they’d gotten to the change room, and takes it slow and easy. Stiles recognizes that he’s being pushed forward with every lunge, but he’s too focused on how the reflection in the mirror is biting its lip and drooling, losing all control over itself. His cock is dangling between his legs, bright red and leaking more than ever, and even as Derek pounds into his prostate over and over again, it’s not enough, nowhere near enough for him to cum. He wants to touch himself but knows he’d be punished for it, so he bites his lip harder and harder in order not to beg, knows Derek doesn’t want begging from him right now.

The werewolf must have been just as worked up as Stiles is, though, and the fucking doesn’t last long. The thrusts become more erratic, but rougher, like Derek is suddenly convinced he can get in deeper. Stiles thinks his knees might be bleeding from where they’ve been slipping over the tile, but that’s not important, what’s important is the muscles in his ass and if he just squeezes them a little bit more.

Derek cums with a growl, like he wants to yell out but he can’t let himself be that loud, but also like the wild animal he sometimes is. The hands on Stiles hips turn too tight, and a little too sharp – Derek’s claws are out, and when his eyes flick up to see Derek in the mirror, he’s flickering through the beta shift. It’s like an illusion, almost, and Stiles loves that Derek loses himself like this, and he’s managed to cum untouched before, but this time it’s still just not enough.

Derek finishes pumping himself dry of cum, and then grinds to a halt, buried deep within Stiles ass and showing no sign of moving again any time soon.

When Stiles is about to give up in frustration, that’s when Derek let’s it loose. His guts are suddenly flooding with more warm liquid, but it’s not cum this time – it’s the piss Derek still had stored up. It’s not exactly confortable; the salt content in it stings slightly as it flows over his abused hole, but his body does what it does best and reacts.

It’s enough – actually, it’s the best orgasm he’s had in his life.

~~

Afterwards, when Derek is finished emptying himself out into him and he’s gotten the plug back out of Stiles mouth and reinserted it to keep his piss and cum inside, that’s when Derek’s gentle side returns. He pulls Stiles towards him, making sure his back is lying on the sweatshirt, and pillows his head in his lap. Stiles had let out a whine when the plug had been taken from him, and Derek gives allows him to take his cock into his mouth and lightly suckle on it. 

The werewolf runs a hand down his stomach, pressing into where it’s extended slightly from the liquid filling him, and Stiles groans. But he knows better now, and whereas before he might have tried to move away from the pressure, now he knows there isn’t a point in pretending and flexes is stomach up into it, wordlessly asking for more. Derek pulls back though, chuckling, to cradle Stiles’ face between both of his hands. “Good toy,” he murmurs, and Stiles’ lips twitch around the head in a sort of smile.

Derek only calls him “toy” in the moments after Stiles has done something to be proud of; in the past, Stiles had started many an argument, but with the revelation of what he saw in the mirror still working through him, he just finally closes his eyes and settles in, wondering when the next time he can get Derek to use the pet name will be.

He hopes for sooner rather than later.

**Author's Note:**

> My last two prompt fills were a little too tame for my liking, so I thought I'd go back to what I love the most and dirty it up a little.
> 
> Also once again, didn't really take the time to edit it, so let me know if you find any mistakes.


End file.
